


You Watch Him Carefully

by TheGiantSquid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, Marauders' Era, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Quidditch Pitch: School Days, The Quidditch Pitch: Self Pleasure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-26
Updated: 2006-05-26
Packaged: 2018-10-26 07:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10782393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGiantSquid/pseuds/TheGiantSquid
Summary: You watch him carefully. He’s sitting on his bed, studiously reading a Defense textbook, and nibbling on a Sugar Quill with those sensuous lips of his while turning the pages in the book with his long and graceful fingers.You want to die.





	You Watch Him Carefully

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: I'd written this a long time ago but fixed it up a little for the May challenge this month :D  


* * *

You watch him carefully. He’s sitting on his bed, studiously reading a Defense textbook, and nibbling on a Sugar Quill with those sensuous lips of his while turning the pages in the book with his long and graceful fingers.  


You want to die.

You lower you head a little and stare determinately at your bed comforter. You’re very confused; was this right? Was it okay to think about other boys this way? A little voice inside your head, sounding remarkably like your mother, says No, you are a freak and a pervert. Boys weren’t supposed to like other boys…right? You’ve been struggling with this for almost two years now and you are no closer to an answer now as you were then. But you know that you want Remus. You want to kiss him and touch him, hear him whimper and sigh…you want to love him. You want him to love you…

You shake your head forcefully. It’s never going to happen, you tell yourself angrily—

A melodious voice startles you out of your thoughts. "Padfoot? Are you all right?"

Your head snaps up and you find yourself gazing into his beautiful amber eyes; your breath hitches in your throat. Clenching your fists, you say, with an incredibly fake and languid smile, "Just fine, Moony." You smile lazily again. He smiles in return and it hurts a little because it’s That Smile, the one that makes your stomach flutter and your heart speed up. 

He lowers his head to go back to his reading. You get an excellent view of his neck and you want nothing better to do than to go over there right now and suck on it.

While thinking all this, your body has begun to react in a way that seventeen-year-old bodies are wont to do when thinking about sucking on the neck of your best mate. You elicit a low growl and slide off the bed carefully, hoping against hope that he won’t see that you’re trying to sneak away. 

He notices anyway. He always does.

"Where are you going?" he asks, his lips twitching, practically screaming at you to kiss them.

"Shower," you grunt, quickly turning around and sprinting out of the room.

You step into the bathroom and put approximately twenty Silencing and Imperturbable Charms on the door, just in case. You want to relax but you don’t want him to hear…

You strip and relief washes over you now that your trousers are no longer pinching you in places you rather not be pinched, at least not by trousers, heh heh. You sigh loudly and allow your hands to glide sinuously over your body, tweaking and pulling and stroking. You bite your lip and stop. Not yet, you tell yourself. You want to feel the water falling over your shoulders, down your back, across your arse, beating down on your cock… 

You turn on the water and a moment later, step into the stall, shuddering with pleasure as the water pounds mercilessly against your hard body. Your cock twitches excitably but you don’t touch yourself; you want to enjoy every minute of this. You want it to last forever knowing fully well that it won’t. 

You pick up a bar of soap and leisurely rub it against your body, and your cock jerks impatiently. You smile a secret smile and after a few more minutes, finally give in to temptation; you lather up your hand with slippery soap and slowly lower it down your body until it finds your erection, hard and pounding and eager. A sigh escapes your lips as you fist your shaft and you begin to stroke.

In your teenage mind’s fantasy, Remus is suddenly there, in the bathroom, watching you, licking those lips of his, and staring at you as if he wanted to devour you. Your hand pumps faster as the Moony of your dreams slowly undresses, his eyes never leaving your face. A low feral moan falls from your lips, as he is now naked in front of you, every bit as beautiful as you always knew he would be.

Your hand moves faster and you are dimly aware that the groans reverberating off the walls are your own.

The Remus in your mind steps into the shower and is immediately soaked; he smiles That Smile again and you feel your knees go weak. He shuffles closer to you, shy and blushing, looking up at you through his lashes, trusting and loving. He quirks another small smile before leaning in and brushing his lips against your own. A thousand nerve endings scream in pleasure. 

The kiss deepens and Remus’s tongue—his tongue!—brushes against your bottom lip. Growling, you part your lips and he slides his tongue into your mouth. In your fantasy, you pull Remus flush against your body, bringing your hand to his hair, pulling and tugging gently as you continue your assault on his mouth and tongue in a vain attempt to crawl into his body. He tastes of tea and sugar and sweat and you love it.

You rub your other hand up and down his body, scratching and kneading, until it finds his arse. He groans into your mouth as you squeeze his flesh, causing him to jerk into you and your cocks to grind against one another.

You gasp loudly and you clamp your eyes shut. You’re so close now…Gritting your teeth, you imagine Remus grinning wolfishly at you as he lowers his hand tortuously slow down your body. Finally—finally—he’s touching you now and you think are dead because it’s exactly like you thought it would be and nothing like you’ve felt before. It’s Heaven. Moony Heaven.

He grasps you firmly with his rough hands and strokes you gracefully, lazily, maddingly…He leans in again and licks your bottom lip.

"Come for me, Sirius," he purrs against your mouth. You could never argue with his logic.

You’re coming now, hard and fast, stars exploding behind your eyes as unbelievable pleasures rips through your body. You are moaning loudly now, not caring if he can hear you anymore…Let him hear, you think, let him know what he does to me.

Your strokes slow and your hips have stopped bucking wildly; your lips are burning from having bitten them so hard during your orgasm. Your breaths are rapid and shallow but you don’t care because you feel so good now and nothing else matters. 

You give yourself one more consolatory squeeze before you let your cock drop from your hands; you only just now realize that your legs are barely holding you up, so you lean against the wall, still panting, but there is a big goofy grin on your face now…

Only it slides off a moment later as cold realization washes over you: You can never have him and he will never know how you feel about him. 

Instead, you’ve only made it more real, that pain that you two will never be together, that you will never know what it’s like to kiss Remus, to feel his body beneath yours, smiling, moaning, gasping out your name…

You turn off the shower angrily. You hate that you have no control, hate that Remus doesn’t like boys, hate that you do; you hate Peter because he’s Peter, and James because he would probably never talk to you again if he found out, and Snivellus because of his big stupid greasy nose.

Mostly, though, you hate yourself because you will never be normal, whatever the fuck that means.

You hate your life because, in the end, you’ll never get what you truly want: Remus. 

And you hate that you’ve accepted that.


End file.
